Ulterior Motives
by Larkwings
Summary: Emmy has a strange request. Hershel should really know better.


**Author's**** Note**: My entry for Zillabean's LxE contest. Because I couldn't pass up this great excuse to try my hand at some saucier fare for my favourite Layton couple.

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Ulterior Motives

"Hershel, the light!"

"Yes, sorry," he said in a hushed tone, and raised the torch. It was after dark and there was not a soul on Gressenheller's grounds besides the two of them. The janitorial staff had left half an hour ago, and as it was the beginning of the weekend the majority students were likely flooding London's bars.

"Stop shaking would you? This is tricky enough as it is."

Hershel Layton, esteemed professor of archeology and world renowned puzzle master, snapped himself back into the moment at hand. He propped his elbow against the wall to steady his arm. An unsettling feeling whirled in his stomach; he was undoubtedly nervous about the whole affair. Breaking into the university, and Dean Delmona's office nonetheless, was beginning to look like the worst idea he'd ever reluctantly agreed to.

"You know what, give it to me." Emmy ripped the torch from his hand and placed it between her teeth. He watched in awe as she tinkered away with the window's lock, clearly losing her patience.

While watching her struggle with the task was surely the ungentlemanly thing to do, Hershel knew better than to question his girlfriend when she was in a mood. And Emmy was most definitely in a mood, as she had been for the past two weeks.

Despite his cleverness for all things puzzling, he could not for the life of him figure out what was eating at her. They'd been dating for the five months, and surely every now and again she had a bad day, but this was getting worrisome.

Everything was comfortable with their relationship, at least from where he stood. They had both been good for each other in so many ways. Even his bond with Flora had improved since Emmy had taken back her position as his assistant and become something more in his life. She'd influenced so many changes for the better in their short time together.

It wasn't like they were fighting. Sure she was a little cross at the moment, but breaking into Gressenheller was no walk in the park –ironically they had cut through a park to get there after dumping the Laytonmobile a good distance from the University to cover their trail. Nothing had really changed much between them since her off-mood began. Well, he supposed one thing had changed, and it was rather important….

The sex.

Even a gentleman such as himself had to admit the sex was great. Or had been great. It wasn't so much the quality as the lack there of. In the two weeks he'd noticed Emmy's change in behaviour, they had shared nothing but a strained kiss. All their other routines had carried on as always, but there was nothing remotely close to intercourse, which said a great deal, because - though he was never one to brag—he and Emmy engaged each other quite often in the activity.

They'd even done it in his office on occasion. (And in his car, and the shower, and in the living room, and the kitchen table and once in a burial chamber of some Azran ruins…but his office!) A professor and his assistant, on university property! He never thought he was capable of such a perverse action. If anyone ever found out….

"Got it," Emmy whispered and tossed the torch back to him. "Wait here while I make sure the coast is clear."

She boosted herself through the window with ease, and he heard the light tap of her boots on the wooden floor.

Had he done something to upset her? From experience Emmy was upfront with him. She had been upset with him overworking, so he'd cut back his hours. She thought he and Flora needed a weekend together, so she'd planned them a father-daughter visit to St. Mystere, and took care of all his one-on-one study periods for the time. If she was keeping something from him, it must be serious.

Which was why when she'd dropped this absurd plot on him that morning, Hershel had agreed without a second thought, despite his unease around the idea of breaking into their workplace.

"It's a go." Emmy popped her head through the window and waved him in. "You've got the puzzle?"

"Of course," said Hershel, following her into the office. He landed squarely inside and pulled the sliding puzzle from his pocket. "You're certain this is a justifiable reason to break into Dean Delmona's office?"

"You know how he's been down lately," she replied, rummaging through the desk drawers, something Hershel would have chided her for had things not been shaky between them. "Just think how delighted he'll be when he solves his granddaughter's puzzle."

"No offence to the dean, but every puzzle she's ever given him I've had to help solve."

"That's why I rigged that one in your hand. A monkey could figure it out blindfolded. We'll just switch the two and Delmona will never know the difference." Emmy bent down to check the bottom drawer. "Now if I were a sliding puzzle where would I hide?"

"That's the thing about puzzles. They pop up in the most peculiar places," Hershel said, trying to keep his composure because he was now staring at Emmy's backside. Even though he'd seen far more, he still felt … scandalous to have such thoughts in his _boss_'s office.

"Here, I found it." Emmy pulled it out from a bunch of papers. "Now we've just got to plant the other one, and mission complete."

Hershel handed her the puzzle. She took it without so much of a look in his eyes.

"You went through a lot of trouble to raise Dean Delmona's self-esteem, my dear."

"It's nice to do spontaneous things for other people." She arranged the drawer back into place and slammed it shut.

Hershel winced, "Is…something the matter, Emmy?"

A good moment passed in which Emmy fumbled the sliding puzzle in her hand. She placed it on the desk, and took a deep breath. "Are you happy being with me?"

He was taken aback by the question. "Of course I am. This is the happiest I've been in a long time …. Are you not?" His heart sank at the sullen look in her eyes.

"I just feel like…everything you do is to please me," she said. "I appreciate the gestures, but we've been together a good while, and I've known you for years, yet I still feel like you're courting me, bending over backwards for me and it feels…weird."

"Emmy, pleasing you makes me happy."

"Yes, it's why you agreed so quickly to break into the university! You clearly don't think this is a good idea, I think it's crazy, and yet when I brought it up this morning you never voiced your concern. I don't want this to be all about me, Hershel! It's supposed to be about _us_!"

She was right. The more he thought about it, she was right. How wrapped up he'd been in doing whatever Emmy wanted, that he'd let his desire to please her defy his rational side.

"So, all this was a test?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I failed then."

"Yeah…," she frowned. "I just wish you'd speak up now and again. I wish you'd surprise me. Say "no" once in a while, because it's always "yes, my dear" and … and sometimes I feel like you aren't _enjoying_ yourself as much as I am."

She was still speaking of his willingness to tag along in this escapade…right? Hershel reassured himself that Emmy wasn't going where he thought she was going with this.

"You're always so good to me, Hershel,"- did he detect a purr in her voice?- "But you don't have to be a gentleman all the time. I want to return the favour. I want to do something for _you_."

By the time he realized her intentions, Emmy had him locked in a kiss. It was a feeling he'd missed these past weeks, the taste of her gentle touch. She pulled away and pressed a finger to his lips. "Do you know what would make me really happy? To see the other side of Hershel Layton … the one that's not afraid to ask a favour of his girlfriend."

She came at him with another kiss. He felt her hips pressing up to his. Rubbing against his groin. Teasing him.

"Shall we head home then?" She gave him a coy smile and backed towards the window, swaying her hips side to side.

"No."

Emmy turned to him, her curiosity piqued. "What did you just say?"

"No." There. He said it again. "Emmy, you said I needed to say no once in a while, and err…not be afraid to ask things of you. Well, I've made up my mind and…I err, I…I don't want to wait."

"Here?" Emmy put on a shocked expression. He saw right through her. She was such a tease. He knew how the taboo of doing it in this place was driving her wild. But Emmy played her role well, and continued with her charade of unease. "In Dean Delmona's office? Are you certain—"

Hershel cut her off with a passionate kiss. He'd brought up the nerve to suggest it; he better jump on it before he started thinking with his head rather than … another part of him he usually excluded from decision making.

Emmy wasted no time returning the kiss. He felt her tongue slide against the inside of his cheek, and with that she moved the act along. She slipped his jacket off with one hand and reached for his crotch with her other, rubbing against the thin material of his pants. She parted from the kiss and breathed heavily in his ear. "I'm all yours."

His response was a low moan. He propped her up against the desk and kissed her again, making his way to her jawline, then along her neck. Her pink ribbon came away in his teeth and drifted to the floor. The butterfly kisses continued until he reached just above her collarbone. After a bit of tinkering, her yellow jacket flew off, followed by her blouse. He simply slid her bra down and pressed his face against her warm breasts.

Emmy's heart was beating erratically. He loved the sound of it, of her, of the rise and fall of her chest. Her hands came up and cupped his face; his scalp tingled from her heavy breaths. She slid to her knees, her face inches from the bulge in his pants. With expert hands she undid his belt and pulled them off his hips.

"Hello there, big guy." Emmy's lips curled into a smile.

Hershel squirmed. He couldn't help it. Emmy obviously knew what she was doing down there. Her lips had felt so good on his, but this…this was a different sensation all together. They'd never done this before ... it was new, and Hershel could not deny he enjoyed it.

"How much did you love that, Hershel?"

She popped her head up and met him on the lips again. It was a more forceful kiss than before, fueled by the high. In her eagerness teeth grated against his bottom lip, and his tongue was met with a subtle taste of blood. Emmy never was afraid to play rough.

"Ready for a second go?" She dipped her head back down.

Hershel took that moment to act. He gave Emmy a gentle yet sturdy shove and they fell to the floor, him on top of her. Although he had enjoyed the experience and her thought, he knew better than to let Emmy loose when she got adventurous.

She had a habit of biting after all.

"Didn't you want me to make the decisions, my dear?" He nuzzled against her neck, and she responded with a fit of giggles. Emmy knocked his top hat aside and pulled at the small hairs on the nape of his neck, mumbling incoherent noise through her laughter. Hershel pushed himself up; he was met with Emmy's smiling face. How beautiful she was framed in the cascading moonlight, with her brown waves falling around her, a proud mane, and her heartfelt laugh filling him like warm honey. He wanted nothing more than to hold that image of her forever.

"Come here!" She managed to choke out between giggles. "You and that dumb smile of yours."

He dropped down and rested his head on her cleavage, his hands massaging her breasts, slowly making their way down to caress the soft flesh of her tummy, then further, past her waist. Her trousers impeded him from getting any further. They had to come off. He wanted in. Around her thighs would do.

Both gave an audible gasp as he plunged inside her. Emmy cried out and bucked, sending him over an euphoric wave. They settled into a rhythm, slow at first, but rising quickly to a faster beat. Normally Emmy set the pace, but the only words from her mouth were noises of pleasure. This left Hershel to take charge, and although not as vocal as his partner, he found his own sense of dominance in the role.

It was different this way. Emmy was to the point when she directed, but she seemed to pick up on his natural queues, and he needn't say a thing. There was this non-verbal connection between the two, a sort of instinct stemming from desire, and they moved and felt as one being. Had his brain not been overflowing with sheer delight, he might of marveled about the fact … could make for an interesting puzzle?

Their motions became greater, less synched, as the climax drew near. Hershel pumped faster and harder. He felt nails dig into his skin; Emmy was lost in the rapture of the moment. She threw her head back and thrust her body forward, giving herself over. He made a final thrusting motion and it sent him overboard. The wonderful feeling of release overcame him, and he rolled his side, panting hard.

They lay there in pure bliss, catching their breaths. Hershel watched Emmy's sides heave for air, shaking her breasts with each exhale. She turned to him, nudging her way into his arms.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I missed you too," he said running his fingers through her hair. She lifted her head, meeting his gaze yet again with those beautiful brown eyes, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Whatever tension had been between them had dissipated. Once again, he felt the wholeness that could only be when next to her.

"Emmy, as nice as this is, we should really be going before—"

He stopped mid thought. Perhaps he'd only imagined it….

"Before what? What is it Her—"

"Ssh." Hershel clamped his hand over her mouth. "Are those footsteps?"

Their silence hung stagnant in the air; from down the hall came the smallest tap of shoes hitting floor. Perhaps Emmy had been wrong about the custodians leaving. They held their breath anxiously as the footsteps drew nearer, then stopped.

"Someone's right outside the door," Emmy whispered.

Hershel tensed in horror as the doorknob jiggled. "Oh, where are my keys?" a faint voice mumbled from the hall. He needn't so much as glance at Emmy for her to get the message. Swiftly, but quietly, they gathered up their lost clothes and headed towards the open window.

Hershel was about to boost Emmy through when she shoved him past their escape and into the dean's closet. She turned back, pulled the curtains and leapt in after him, closing the door just as the other one was opened.

It was a small office closet, much too cramped for two adults –although roomier than Rosa's broom closet, which had been explored on a separate occasion. Hershel lay in an odd position, propped between a filing cabinet and boxes full of paperwork, and with his pants around his ankles. Emmy was sprawled on top of him half naked.

The footsteps came into the room and the lights flicked on. Although Hershel could not see, he guessed the person was walking towards the dean's desk from the closeness of the steps. Emmy shifted her weight, trying to peer out the small crack of the door. Her breasts smacked Hershel in the face as she leaned forward.

"It's Dean Delmona," she said softly.

"What's he doing?"

"Tinkering with the sliding puzzle. Why would he come all the way back to work for that?"

"He's seeing his granddaughter tomorrow. Perhaps he wished to solve it before then?"

"Oh, shit."

"What is it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low, but curiosity and nerves were getting to him.

"He's trying the one _on_ the desk. I left the original puzzle there."

Hershel was not sure how long Dean Delmona spent on the puzzle, but his limbs had grown stiff, and he dared admit he was tired of having her breasts pressed against his face by the time Emmy announced the dean had put the thing down. "He's got it in his pocket. I think he's finally given up," she said.

Hershel felt his chest relax. This would be over soon, he assured himself of it. He—

Emmy's nails dug into his shoulders, and he had to bite his tongue from yelping.

"Fuck," she muttered.

He was finally able to swing his head around in a very uncomfortable position, but at least he had a view under the door. About a foot or two away from their hiding spot was exactly what Emmy had noticed: her pink ribbon….

Two feet came into view. "What have we here?" asked Dean Delmona to himself, and the evidence was snatched from the floor.

Neither Hershel nor Emmy dared speak or even breathe. After an excruciating pause, a chuckle came from the dean. "Silly me," he laughed. "I shouldn't be doing puzzles so late at night. I'll just have to tell my granddaughter I forgot it at work, and ask Hershel for help on Monday."

Hershel watched Delmona's feet scurry back to his desk, and to the door. "Next thing you know Rosa will be leaving top hats in here," he said. The lights went off, and the locked clicked shut.

It was a good five minutes before either Emmy or Hershel dared to move. Once assured they were the sole intruders in this part of Gressenheller, they hastily got dressed and made to leave. On her way out, Emmy stopped at the dean's desk, pocketing her bow tie which Delmona had thankfully left behind, and the rigged puzzle. After such a close call it was better to not leave a trace. She hopped out the window and landed clumsily into Hershel's outstretched arms, knocking them back onto the grass.

"That played out much better in my head," Hershel groaned and rubbed his neck.

"It's the thought that counts," Emmy crawled up and pecked him on the lips, "and you are a most thoughtful man. So chivalrous … and yet, there is a streak of mischief in you after all."

"So, I suppose I passed your test in the end?"

"How could I fail such an eager soul?"

She helped him to his feet, and they got the window locked down. Looking at the building now, and Dean Delmona's quiet office, one would never have thought they'd been there.

"Emmy, my dear, as exhilarating as this was, if you're ever upset I really wish you'd tell me straight up," said Hershel. "These past two weeks were simply the result of poor communication. I'd rather resolve things sooner next time."

"Wasn't make-up sex more fun?"

He wasn't sure how he should answer that. Of course it _was_, but should he be encouraging her erratic behaviour?

It was then something dawned on him. "You planned this didn't you? It was never about helping Dean Delmona …you just needed an excuse to get me into his office and convince me to…."

Emmy grinned slyly. For such an intelligent man, yet again he'd been blind sighted by love, and the cunning of his thrill-seeking partner. Hershel sighed and shook his head. Despite almost getting caught, he supposed this little adventure had its highlights too, and it ended with them making up, so who was he to complain?

"Emmy, just promise me that next time you feel we need to work things out in a … sexual manner … at the very least you'll pick a more low key area."

Hershel put his arm around her and they made their way back to his car. The night was cool, a soft wind rustled the leaves, and set a chill to the air, but the couple found its hidden warmth. For Hershel, simply being next to her was enough.

"Low key huh? Didn't we park the Laytonmobile behind some shrubbery?"

"Yes, if I recall correctly."

"It was pretty dense foliage, hidden away, off the unbeaten path…."

"Are you suggesting something, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing," Emmy had that flicker of mischief in her eye that Hershel knew all too well. He smiled, his heart filling with a bubbly joy just looking at her. How wonderful it was for things to be back to normal for him and his girlfriend. The very same girlfriend whose hand was slowing creeping its way down his trousers….

The night's fun was far from over.


End file.
